The phone rang … suddenly … shrilly. P.S. stretched out his hand and hesitated – was this a trap? What fiendish question was he now to be asked ? He overcame his fear and picked up the phone, hand trembling slightly. ‘Hello, production office’ he said. No one answered, but he could hear heavy breathing through his earpiece. He glanced at his colleague T.H. and his eyes indicated the extension, which T.H. slowly lifted to his ear.

‘Hello’ said P.S. again. The muscles of his jaw twitched and his steel-blue eyes narrowed through the thick cigar smoke that filled the office. Both men were still, tense. The phone had not rung for at least two minutes and now – this. The tension became unbearable and beads of perspiration trickled slowly down his temples, dropping from his chin and staining the blotter on his desk. He could still hear the breathing of his adversary and faintly in the distance, revolver shots – one! two!! Immediately a voice at the other end – metallic, authoritative – called: ‘Hold it there – don’t move’. P.S. tensed. It was not the first time this situation had arisen. Twice before this very day he had heard those shots, and the cold command to stay still. He glanced quickly at T.H. on his left. T.H. sat still, relaxed, but ready to move instantly to back up his colleague in any emergency. The pencil drummed lightly on the ash tray before him. Both men were experienced operators and had passed through these crises many times before. There had been that time with the lions and panthers when only feet had separated them from a terrible mauling – and they were still in action: and again, when all seemed lost, and they had fought their way through the Russian mob and beaten the crime – and punishment. But this – this, was different. P.S. glanced swiftly at the schedule hanging by his side. Nothing sinister – all should have been quiet. But it was always in these moments of apparent calm that the greatest danger came. Although it seemed like hours, in fact only a few seconds had elapsed since that first terrifying ring.

Suddenly the door was flung open and D.N. stood framed in the opening. His sharp eye took in the situation at a glance. ‘What now?’ he gritted and took one sharp, nervous pace into the room. P.S. held up his free hand in a gesture of silence. D.N. stood stock still, his eyes never leaving the telephone in P.S.’s hand.

In an instant the tension broke as a sharp, incisive voice said ‘Is that the production office? Oh! Studio 5 here – will it be all right if we go to lunch five minutes early?’ The air whistled through P.S.’s lips in a surge of relief. ‘O.K.’ he said. Slowly he replaced the receiver, slumped back in his chair and lit a cigarette. Another crisis over. He smiled: ‘How about a quick jug in the club before lunch?’ There was a quick flurry, the slam of a door and – silence.

I must confess that the above is a slight exaggeration, but sometimes this is how it appears to us on extension 207 in the production office at Wembley. It is not a large office, but every day from early morn until half an hour after the last studio closes, these is always a duty manager on hand to answer queries on studio technical requirements, dressing room allocation, special effects, staff problems, hygiene, safety first, and 100 other subjects of a production, whether it be of a personal or domestic nature.

On average, about 15 productions are transmitted, telerecorded or videotaped every week at Wembley, and four or five at Television House.

Those of you who read articles on ‘Hippodrome’ and ‘The Informer’ in Fusion will have realised the enormous problems facing members of the production teams, and these are but TWO series. Apart from these two there are also other series such as ‘The Rat Catchers’, ‘No Hiding Place’, ‘Orlando’ plus drama, science, schools, features, light entertainment, children’s and religious programmes, all of which have their own (and equally important) administrative problems and, in all of which, somewhere along the line, the production office is involved.

For example, while ‘Hippodrome’ was in production, the production office team were responsible for the housing, feeding (and bedding) of 12 elephants, 12 lions, six tigers, two pumas, and five leopards, plus assorted dogs and trainers – not to mention the acts – Mexican, French, Spanish, and German – who required facilities for cars, caravans and cages and the laying on of electricity, water and heating.

During ‘Ready, Steady, Go!’ every week cloakrooms are set up to take care of the coats and handbags of up to 150 teenagers and while ‘Five o’Clock Club’ is transmitting and recording parents must be accommodated and facilities for them to view the programmes laid on – somewhere. We have in our time, dealt with a fire in dressing room 26, flood in Studio 2, a ‘punch-up’ in Studio 5 and a robbery (and arrest) in dressing room 513.

The post The 007 men on 207 appeared first on THIS IS REDIFFUSION from Transdiffusion.

A two-headed figure, half man, half woman, looms at you out of the gloom. You turn – and a wild-cat, eyes a-glint and jaws snarling, is ready to pounce. Everywhere you look, nightmarish objects stare back at you.

‘This is our horror room,’ says Mary Paul, whose husband Ken is one of Rediffusion’s chief props suppliers.

Ken Paul’s sprawling premises occupy two shops, three storeys high, in England’s Lane, a part of Hampstead still village-y in character. They house thousands of articles for hire to stage, screen and television companies.

Most of the props borrowed for Rediffusion’s ‘Crane’ come from here, because Ken Paul, while stocking all sorts of antique and unusual props, specialises in Moorish and Eastern pieces. You want a hookah? There’s a choice of half a dozen over in the corner. We’re in a room entirely given over to Eastern stuff, in surroundings as exotic as anything in the Arabian Nights.

Some of the latest additions in this room are those bought from the set of a recent film made in the Near East. (A reversal of the usual procedure, and one that is not too common, for most of the articles stocked are genuine and not reproductions, and are bought privately or at auctions.)

‘When the stuff came in, we noticed the most peculiar smell,’ says Mrs Paul. It was very puzzling – until we realised it was a hang-over from contact with camels.’ Mrs Paul is a blonde, vivacious woman. Her husband, who has a trim, pointed beard, is slightly more reserved. They married in 1942, and started up in business with £100 [about £3,500 in today’s money, allowing for inflation – Ed].

‘We got the lease of one of these shops – the other we only acquired recently – and did it up ourselves. We started with hardly anything – a tandem in bits, an enormous grand piano, a rocking-horse and a doll’s pram.’

Mrs Paul recounts this as if it were all a huge joke – one that has gone on being funny all these years. She’s not always in the shop, but when she is there she finds the business great fun. ‘It’s not like work at all.’

She continues: ‘When we began, we intended just to sell antiques. We didn’t think of lending them until a friend gave us the idea. Our first film order was for “The Scarlet Pimpernel”. It was worth £25 and we were thrilled.’ [The film was 1934, too early for the 1942 establishment of the business; the ATV/ITC TV series was 1955, which seems too late. If the TV series is what’s intended, £25 is £560 in today’s money]

The normal hiring fee is five per cent of the original cost of the article for each week of hire. Where the same article will be needed maybe for months – for the full run of a TV series, for instance – a special fee is arranged.

Ken Paul explains this as he hurries about in the office quarters at the back of the shop. This is where the administrative work is carried out by the Paul’s manager and two assistants. It’s called an office, but really it’s more of another props room.

A huge Victorian cabinet stands along one side, covered with a multitude of unrelated objects. Part of the space inside is used as a drinks cupboard, the rest holds neat drawers full of snuff-boxes, of all shapes, sizes and antiquities; fans of ostrich feathers, lace, and painted satin; and hundreds of postcards. (‘You get people asking what Portofino or somewhere looked like 50 years ago, and you can usually show them.’)

Cups of half-drunk tea or coffee lie scattered among the accounts and order books. You expect to turn the china upside-down and find it marked ‘Spode’, ‘Minton’ or even ‘Worcester’.

You pick up a cup to see if you’re right and you’re distracted from your aim when you find that the cups are resting on a glass-topped display cabinet filled with fabulous jewels.

‘They’re not all real, actually,’ you are told. ‘This diamond set – the tiara, bracelet and necklace – they’re paste. But they’re very fine quality. They came from a duchess who had them copied exactly from her real set, which she kept in the bank.’

There is jewellery of all periods and types. ‘We’re very good on pawn-shop settings. Rediffusion usually comes to us if they need a pawn-shop in “No Hiding Place” for example.’

Jewellery was among the items on the pages-long list of props that Rediffusion hired from Ken Paul for the ‘Crime and Punishment’ drama production. There was also a samovar on the list, a Victorian doll’s pram and two Russian icons.

‘The icons were presents to our two daughters when they were younger,’ says Mary Paul. ‘When we started borrowing them to hire out, they asked for the fee. They’ve been borrowed so often now that they’re part of the stock.’

Another prop that originally belonged to the Paul children is a huge Victorian doll.

It now lives down in the basement, in the room that could adequately rival Madame Tussaud’s ‘Chamber of Horrors’ for monstrosities.

A life-sized stuffed bear rears up on his hind legs as if to pounce when you reach the bottom of the stairs. Behind him, a hideous stuffed monkey. Lying on the floor, glowing wickedly and translucently, the wax model heads of a number of mass murderers.

‘There were more masks,’ you are told, ‘but they were borrowed so often that in the end they melted under the hot lights.’ More grotesque objects are upstairs, among the ethnographical gear, with voodoo carved figures and masks.

Then there’s the naval and military room, with cutlasses, globes, daggers, guns, maps, portraits and heavy bronzes. From here come some of the props which appear weekly in the ‘H.M.S. Paradise’ episodes. Another speciality is blackamoors, ebony-coloured figures beautifully painted, some of them extremely rare and valuable, as is the greater part of the stock.

‘When we’ve supplied a lot of the props, we like to see the final production – whether it’s on television, the stage or the screen,’ say the Pauls. ‘Sometimes, though, it can be quite a harrowing experience. You see a big fight scene, all your stuff gets knocked about, and you think – “Now I know why so-and-so came back damaged”. It’s sad … but you can’t mind too much, and on the whole people are very good about looking after our props.’

After the horror room and the military room, it is a relief to wander into the gracious atmosphere of the Victoriana room, where all the trimmings of that leisurely age are stored.

It is an even greater relief to pass into the next room and find yourself in a fully-equipped pub – bar, stools, prettily-painted handles for pulling a pint.

‘All fake again,’ you’re told.

But if you’re lucky, there’s a real drink waiting for you in that Victorian cabinet…

The post Voodoo and murderers in Hampstead appeared first on THIS IS REDIFFUSION from Transdiffusion.

The tenth series of ‘No Hiding Place’ with Raymond Francis in his role as Lockhart and newcomer Sean Caffrey as his sergeant is now being screened. It also has a new producer. What does it feel like to be put into the producer’s chair? How does one get a series such as this on the air? What are the problems? michael currer-briggs, the new producer, tells his story…

One day, just before Christmas, I was asked to write this article. ‘What is wanted?’ I asked. ‘Oh! something about your first series as producer,’ they said, ‘the personal point of view – a thinking piece – anecdotal – comedy – the theory and problem of taking over a long-established series and becoming a producer.’ Well, I thought I’d better oblige and so I started to think. To me this is a painful process. But I have been trying to be a producer for some months now so I should have something to say. At the time of going to press we have only just begun production and I have still got weeks of rehearsals, reactions, ratings, directors, designers, writers and artists ahead of me. There will be problems, some of which will no doubt be furry, four-footed and with fangs. There will be plenty of ‘final analyses’ and ‘critical appraisals’ and all those heart thumping terrors with which to cope. So, accepting that all this is still to come, I will now formulate my feelings and experiences as far as they go.

In the summer, while I was the other side of the Iron Curtain working for the BBC and hitting the high spots of Glasgow, I somehow felt that change was in the air. Sure enough one day I had a call from Television House. ‘We’ve got something very, very interesting we want you to do,’ they said. Well, of course my curiosity got going at double speed. ‘Producing the next series of “No Hiding Place”,’ they said. ‘Good for you and good for us.’ Well, I didn’t think long about it and I calmed down fairly soon, accepted it whole-heartedly and took the plunge.

‘Scripts,’ they said on day one. ‘Must get them in as soon as possible and you’re lucky you’ve got plenty of time. The budget’s fixed and your directors are fixed and your script editor’s fixed and the series is fixed and the new sergeant is fixed and you’re very lucky.’ They said that several times just so I wouldn’t forget.

Well, I suppose some would say I should have started by unfixing something. I should have been all difficult and talked about my creative integrity, but I decided not to – maybe I’ll prove myself to have been a fool not to have unfixed a bit, but I didn’t. I’d thought all about that on day one minus one, so it didn’t have the effect of fixing me all that much, especially as there were a hell of a lot of other things left to do. Every picture has to have a frame – old oak, heavy gold, stark modern simplicity – and I felt the frame they’d fixed for me was pretty good and plenty large and that I had so much to learn that I’d do myself a damage if I banged about trying to get a different shape or style for it.

And so we started. The first big thing was learning the series from a different point of view. ‘No Hiding Place’ is a common property to all of us. Experience on the series is part of a man’s life in Rediffusion Television. But I had to see it from an entirely new angle – the producer’s angle – and I had to ask myself a lot of questions. What could I bring to the series? What would be expected of me? What really is a producer’s function? What were his qualifications supposed to be – his attributes – his experience? Well, no one really told me very much about this and I could see I’d have to try and spring fully fledged as it were from the head of Jove.

I thought of all the producers who had produced me – the ones who were never called producers in the old days when they were heads of their section and the ones who had sprung up overnight and had acquired the title perhaps before they were dry behind the ears. Everyone according to his own experience and I to mine. I could only think of it all in terms of what I would like a producer to be and try to become that. Probably my ideas were very, very much too limited -in fact I’m sure so now after only a few weeks at it. The job involves much more than I ever imagined and even at the end of 15 episodes I know there’ll be a massive amount for me still to learn. All things to all men is a ridiculous impossibility. But it’s not far from what is demanded. Good with ideas, vivid with inspiration, profound with knowledge and experience, capable of communicating, but above all (and the one chief aim I am trying to keep before me) is the ability to make a climate in which everyone can give of their best. They should not only satisfy the audience and give it more than what is wanted and expected, but they should also satisfy the management and themselves. All seems to funnel down from above to a producer and then fan out from him to a collection of writers, directors and artists for whom the same process is being repeated. A storm of creative energy is at the heart of each episode and each one must not only be related to the others but must also be treated as if it were the only show on earth.

The writer comes first. Alun Falconer as script editor fights for his writers, trying to get the best from them and for them. Stories came and went by the dozen and a few remain in memory as a laugh. There was the one where Lockhart was supposed to have high jinks with a gay widow who hid her diamonds and kept them in the fridge while she claimed insurance as a result of a supposed theft. But she’d made one mistake and chose for her Hiding Place a certain product wrapped in a wrinkled paper. But Lockhart knew all and solved the case because, as the title told, he could tell Stork from Butter. A bright young spark sent that one in and in all fairness I honestly believe he didn’t realise that he was completely doomed to failure.

So we ploughed on and the scripts started to come in. The consultants, Amos Gibson and Colin Holder, consulted, and sometimes we were elated, sometimes depressed. Re-writes came next to get the first drafts into line with the series as a whole. There were the dangers and problems of how to avoid spoiling a good idea, how to make a weak script stronger and so on. We had a script that was promising but this and that needed doing. Conferences followed, re-writes came in. We all thought we had a disaster on our hands. On that day Alun talked about his technique, it saved my life to hear him.

‘It’s like sailing,’ he said, ‘tacking against the wind. You have to push an author to get him to change his course and off he goes right over to the other side of the river. He nearly crashes into the opposite bank and you have to be over there to push him off again. Then he shoots back to the other side. But each time he tacks he gets nearer and nearer until he gets on course and the script comes into line. You’ve got to blow just the right amount and sometimes it takes a lot of wind.’ Soon after this another script came in. That was a big worry and Alun blew quite a gentle breeze. I thought he’d gone mad, become an early Christian and was being far too kind. But the result was miraculous – straight on to course in one go. I wish they were all like that.

And so we had something to produce and all the internal processing began. Will our revered chief approve? Who shall direct? What will he say? Will it be number one? Must have a good one to start – can we bring it in within budget? What about filming, casting, designing? Bang, bang and we were off and I found another chain of reactions, some new, some expected but all vitally fresh.

This is where the directors come in. They are the next step towards exposure. They add, they give actuality, they transmit. God help a producer who doesn’t get on with them. To me the heart of this new job is seeing them for the first time. Before, when I was directing myself, I was blinkered. I never saw another director working. I was always alongside. I was in parallel at the best of times, behind or ahead most of the time, never face to face. I know already I want to direct again in the future because I can now much more clearly understand that unless a producer and a director mutually see each other’s problems as their own, they will never be united. If this principle isn’t applied in every television relationship, nothing can happen successfully, smoothly or with integrity.

There is and must be a friction and it must cause heat. Fire is needed to create but it can also destroy. I am beginning to understand that really it is best for a producer to be seen and not heard. Even his own personal ‘OOMs’ [“Official Office Memoranda” – Captain Brownrigg’s way of communicating with staff – Ed] give rise to a large range of reactions. His function must be to reconcile, balance, give form and he must live with the constant hope that his suggestions might inspire – and not be disturbed when they are rejected.

It is far better to have a good idea left untasted than to force it to be swallowed and then to see it sink undigested like a lump of solid dough to the bottom of a dyspeptic stomach. But if a producer has a reward, it is to see his suggestions chewed over and transformed into something new, fresh, vital and appropriate. Something which will need no defending, because it exists as it should and will reach the screen in a way in which even the sleepiest viewer will respond to, perhaps without even knowing why.

As a wise man once said of a producer – he must have a love-hate relationship with anyone with whom he works. He must be willing to help always but above all he must respect a man’s self-respect. A producer is with a series for the entire run but on each episode the director is the creative chief. The same applies to every relationship a producer has with every creative technician. His editor comes first, then the director and through (and only through) the latter, the rest of the company of each production.

The one real link with his old job as a director is the producer’s relations with his stars. He has to keep them happy with good scripts, good publicity, good everything. They are the ones who take the ultimate exposure and get the final praise and blame. Raymond Francis has done it all before but Sean Caffrey is taking his first plunge. We wish them both all the best of luck. At the time of writing this I haven’t got any further. I’m not going to crystal gaze into the future – it’s too dangerous. By the time this gets to the great Fusion public, they’ll know whether I’ve been able to do anything to actualise my aim. They must be the judges.

The post No Hiding Place for a producer appeared first on THIS IS REDIFFUSION from Transdiffusion.

‘The yellow submarine is like an information-cum-lost-persons-cum-marriage-cum-personnel office.’ So says Mrs Peggy Davidson, manager of production in Ray Dicks’ section about her yellow-painted office on a corner of the fourth floor – like a submarine, it has no view.

Peggy Davidson’s job is to assign teams of directors, PAs and stage managers to programmes and allocate the rehearsal rooms. It sounds simple but working with creative people sometimes presents problems and in particular the problem of personalities.

‘Some people don’t like working with others, some people work better on a certain kind of programme and some haven’t the ability to do what they want,’ says Peggy Davidson. ‘All this has to be taken into account when considering a team for a programme. When I started this job, I was very worried about matching people up, and found that all my best ideas seemed to come in the middle of the night. The answer was to keep a pencil and notepad by my bed, and when I woke up shouting “Of course – put her with him” I would jot it down immediately. I’ve still got a notebook by my bed, but it’s only used in moments of great stress.’

The manager of production’s job has changed a lot over the past four years. In 1965, Peggy Davidson had 40 staff directors and brought in perhaps a dozen freelancers for specific assignments over a year. Now there are 22 staff directors and the rest, over half, are contracted. This involves much work as there are agents to be contacted, contracts to be negotiated and fees to be arranged and the whole to be passed by the controller of production, Ray Dicks. The position of PAs has also changed during this time. All PAs are on the staff and must be kept working all the time. ‘The days of a durable partnership between a director and a PA are going to become rare,’ says Peggy Davidson.

To keep them busy PAs must now be moved from one director to another. This means matching them with a book showing what a director is doing at any time and when he will be free or available for a programme. There are also minor problems like making sure that the contract directors have offices, that PAs have stop watches and that programmes have rehearsal rooms. The number of rehearsal rooms at Television House are dwindling as they are converted into offices. Part of Peggy Davidson’s job is to find new rooms outside, which means more negotiations. This can sometimes produce unexpected complications like: ‘You can have the room all week except Thursday afternoon when we have our jumble sale’.

Theoretically, once the members of the unit are selected Peggy Davidson’s responsibility towards that programme ceases. In fact it doesn’t, because her office (known to the inmates as the Yellow Submarine and to outsiders as Ray’s Aviary) is a clearing house of information concerning the whereabouts of people, the availability of freelancers and general problems.

‘The job has developed a great deal over the past four years,’ continues Peggy Davidson. ‘I think one of the biggest changes has been the advent of producers. When I started, there were really only two – one for “No Hiding Place” and one for “This Week”. Now there seems to be one for almost every programme. It makes the job more complicated, because there is one extra channel to go through. Setting up a show used to involve the head of a section and his manager, but now there is a third person to cater for – the producer. All three have their own ideas, their own preferences and their own dislikes. Matched up with the creative ability of directors, plus the opinions of the PAs and SMs, one has an awful lot of combinations to play with.’

The job of being a director, a PA or an SM are among the most sought-after in television. Peggy Davidson sees on average three would-be SMs and a PA each week. ‘They go onto a waiting list or my files,’ she says. ‘I also see directors and arrange for Ray Dicks to interview them too. SMs are usually trained when they come, as are directors, but PAs are more often trained with Rediffusion. ‘We have a board of PAs to help select the girls – but vacancies are few and far between. They are in all three jobs.’ Peggy Davidson is an ex-PA herself. She joined Rediffusion in 1955 and after two years went to Canada. She returned in 1959, worked on ‘Hippodrome’ and the following year went into advertising. At Stella Ashley’s request she returned, for the second time, in 1962 and worked on ‘The Somerset Maugham Hour’ series. Then she took over from James Butler who had been manager of production for three months on a temporary basis. ‘It’s the longest I have ever been in one job,’ she says. ‘I love dealing with people and this job involves a great deal of it.

‘Our humorous and tragic moments come and go,’ concludes Peggy Davidson. ‘Usually they are of the moment, and are neither funny nor important by the following week. The one that does stand out in my memory though was a director announcing he would interview all the SMs before deciding which one he wanted to work with. He so floored me that I let him see four and choose his own. It’s never been done before or since.’

The post The yellow submarine’s periscope appeared first on THIS IS REDIFFUSION from Transdiffusion.

“A result of the developments in Independent Television since we last met is that this will be our last Annual General Meeting as an independent television programme company. In February of this year the Independent Television Authority invited applications for new programme contracts to take effect after the expiry of the existing contracts on 29th July, 1968. The Authority had decided to make certain changes in the general pattern of the contracts for the three major independent television areas known as the London, Midland and Northern areas, each of which has since the beginning been served by two contractors, one on the five weekdays and one at the weekends. Under the new pattern, only the London area will be served by two contractors, with the weekday contractor’s responsibility ending at 7 p.m. on Fridays, when the weekend contractor will take over.

The London weekday contract has been held by your company and its predecessor, Associated-Rediffusion, since the inception of independent television and we confidently applied for renewal. The Authority decided against us, however, and offered the new contract conditionally to a new programme company to be formed jointly by your company and ABC Television Limited, currently the weekend contractor for the Midland and Northern areas. The Authority’s decision not to renew our contract was a great shock and wholly unexpected. It affected not only you as shareholders but some 1,350 of your employees, whose lives and careers were sadly and cruelly upset.

We had assumed that a statement by the Postmaster General, made when the Television Bill, now embodied in the Television Act, 1964, was being debated in the House of Commons, meant what it said. The Postmaster General’s precise words as recorded in Hansard were as follows: —

‘Meanwhile, I hope that the House will remember that the risk of non-renewal of a contract is very slight unless the company has completely failed to make the grade.’

Your Board took the view that we had not ‘completely failed’ and would not ‘completely fail to make the grade’ and I must add that we had not at any time been given any indication that the Authority took a different view; accordingly we proceeded to prepare for the future by increasing the staff and undertaking large scale capital expenditure commitments to convert our operation for colour and the new 625 line standard. As shareholders, however, you will naturally ask the question ‘have we completely failed to make the grade?’ This question is, I think, best answered, not by an expression of my own opinion, but by facts and by tributes from outside the Company.

The facts may be briefly summarised as follows. Rediffusion, in company with Associated Television and with the valued support of Sir Kenneth Clark, the first Chairman of the I.T.A., and Sir Robert Fraser, the I.T.A. Director-General, was responsible for building up independent television from nothing, through serious initial trials and tribulations, into a first class public service. Rediffusion, in the difficult pioneering days, introduced the first regular television service for schools in this country and has since been the leader in that field. Rediffusion took the initiative in forming the International Television Federation, an association of major television organisations in the English speaking world for the production, exchange and distribution throughout the world of high class documentary programmes on world problems. Rediffusion has always played a leading part in the independent television network, providing the central production services and key staff for state occasions and other national events and its general programme contribution to the network has not been surpassed by any other company. Rediffusion has won over 40 awards in international and national competitions for its programmes and publications in every field of broadcasting activity. The list of ITV Awards in the I.T.A. 1968 Year Book, covering the years 1956 to 1967, records that Rediffusion has won more awards than any other programme company. This surely cannot be a company which has ‘completely failed to make the grade.’

But let me now offer you a selection of tributes from outside on the Company generally and on its programmes, including some from the I.T.A. itself.

From ‘The Observer’ –

‘Rediffusion is the most BBC-like of the companies, full of people who really know and care about TV.’

From the ‘Television Mail’ –

‘But – though perhaps it’s a bit early for tributes and similar goo – it does seem appropriate at this time just to say how much, in our opinion, A-R, together with the other pioneers, has contributed to this vast industry. It took some courage, in those days, to hang on and keep a brave face while watching all those millions of pounds pouring out of the window; A-R at one stage not only lost nearly £4 million, as well as its original partner. Associated Newspapers. But the original management’s faith in commercial television eventually paid off, and many of the later entrants into ITV were able to take advantage of the spadework -and the risks – undertaken by A-R in the very early days.

And since that time the company’s record has been pretty impressive. It has been associated with Intertel, ‘This Week’, Studio 5 at Wembley, E-Cam, and many other advances in the technical and creative fields. Sure, it’s had its failures, too; but at least it’s been man enough to admit them; last year’s balance sheet includes some thousands of pounds written off in untransmitted programmes (some people would have transmitted them).

On the sales side, too, A-R has done a great deal for the advertising world. At the time of the announcement of the new contracts, it was installing a computer timebooking system; and many initiatives in the time sales field have been taken by the company.’

On the occasion of the tenth anniversary of Rediffusion’s ‘This Week’, the then Chairman of the I.T.A., Lord Hill of Luton, wrote –

‘For a decade ‘This Week’ has been a regular illustration of Independent Television’s determination to provide a well-balanced service. ‘This Week’ has faithfully provided information, educational and not seldom entertaining material about the contemporary world with unfailing skill and imagination. Its ingenious methods of presentation have consistently made sense of complex current issues without distortion, over-simplification or playing down to the audience.’

On the same occasion, the Prime Minister wrote –

‘A pioneer in this field has been ‘This Week’. Its integrity is undoubted, its professionalism obvious. I congratulate its producers and all who play a part in its presentation.’

The Leader of the Opposition wrote –

‘Television has been largely responsible for stimulating the public appetite in this respect. During the past 10 years, ‘This Week’ has played a notable part in providing commentary news headlines.’

I have already referred to our initiative in the formation of The International Television Federation and I think our standing in the principal English-speaking countries overseas is well illustrated by the following extract from a citation recently presented to us by our fellow-members of the Federation. It is as follows:—

‘Intertel, at the eighth annual meeting, accepts with profound regret the resignation of Rediffusion Television Limited and gratefully acknowledges its wise leadership and generous contributions to the common effort.

(Signed) T. S. Duckmanton, The Australian Broadcasting Commission
Eugene S. Hallman, The Canadian Broadcasting Corporation
John F. White, National Educational Television (USA)
MALTA, September 30th, 1967.’

May I now give you a few extracts from the I.T.A’s own Year Books about Rediffusion programmes?

1963 ‘If this gradual and intelligible introduction to television on behalf of children could be achieved, no better start could be made than with ‘Small Time’, a short programme appearing from Monday to Friday between 4.45 p.m. and 5 p.m. on most stations of Independent Television.’

‘In the winter of 1960-61, Associated-Rediffusion transmitted a French language series ‘Chez les Dupre’ in the early evening and found an immediate and substantial response among viewers in the London area.’

‘The play should speak to the condition of a television service. In so far as it does so, in the case of Independent Television, it reveals it to be in good heart. Each of the four largest companies (A-R, ATV, Granada and ABC) has made and continues to make, serious contributions to television drama . . .’

1964 ‘Nevertheless, the serials have been very good in recent months . .. ‘Sierra Nine’ and ‘Smuggler’s Cove’ from Associated-Rediffusion, all accurately described as adventure serials, with children taking the major parts.’

‘Melodrama, which may cover all other kinds of fictional series, is entertaining enough to deserve its considerable place in television. Lively who-done-its such as ‘No Hiding Place’ … are the essence of quick-moving, intelligently planned entertainment.’

1965 ‘To take one example alone, the much acclaimed production by Rediffusion of Shakespeare’s ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’ in June, 1964 was seen by almost 4,000,000 viewers.’

‘Rediffusion has launched ‘Towards 2000’ a major series on the development of technology . . .’ ‘These are essentially action stories rather than plays of ideas, and they include some very popular programmes such as ‘No Hiding Place’ and ‘Crane’ (Rediffusion) . . .’

“‘Double Your Money’ and ‘Take Your Pick’ (Rediffusion) have been running as long as Independent Television itself and continue to be enjoyed by vast audiences.’

1966 ‘A notable programme seen throughout the country was ‘The Music Man’ (Rediffusion) . . .’

1967 ‘Although it was first felt that television’s chief contribution would be to the work of the secondary school, its potential value to primary schools was recognised as early as 1959 when Rediffusion produced ‘The World Around Us’.’

Finally, a selection of press comments on individual programmes:—

‘Laudes Evangelii’ (two quotes from the American press)

‘A magnificent harbinger of the many productions on religious themes that this season of the year will be bringing to our television screens. Some may be as good as this one but I hardly see how any could be better.’

‘Leonide Massine’s Laudes Evangelii surely will stand as one of television’s lasting accomplishments, a work of breathtaking reverence and beauty that has enriched the home screen as much as any single programme in recent years.’

‘Design for Living’

‘. . . beautifully simple, it revives one’s faith in the use of television.’

‘This Week’

‘. . . report on South Vietnam and the round-up of the modern Israeli Army were both prize-winning pieces of TV journalism.’

‘Children of Revolution’

‘. . . television at its best.’

‘No Hiding Place’ – ‘A Bottle Full of Sixpences’

‘Lord Hill of ITA must be plaintively asking himself why the rest of the boys can’t make programmes as wholesome and morally sound as the sentimental homily we got last night in London.’

‘One In Every Hundred’

‘A compulsive and socially valuable use of the television screen.’

‘Dare I Weep, Dare I Mourn’

‘It is clearly obvious that ITV is capable of producing such first-class material as Rediffusion’s James Mason Film ‘Dare I Weep, Dare I Mourn.’

‘Seven Deadly Virtues’ – ‘The Good and Faithful Servant’

‘This was a play that put some life back into my loss of faith in ITV drama.’

‘This Week’ – ‘The World of Nigel Hunt’

‘This kind of television, lightening superstitious corners of human prejudice, is high among TV’s most worthwhile achievements.’

It is common knowledge that not all comments about the Company and its programmes have been in the same vein as those I have quoted to you. But whatever adverse comment there may have been, such comments as I have quoted surely could not apply to a company which had ‘completely failed to make the grade.’

Small wonder is it, therefore, that your directors, management and staff are at a loss to understand the Authority’s decision. Even that decision cannot destroy our pride in our achievements over the past 12 years.

The Authority did, however, offer us an opportunity, on the conditions that we completely sacrifice our identity and any control over the development of independent television, to acquire a 50 per cent financial stake, but no effective say, in a new company, to be formed in partnership with ABC Television, to serve the population of the London area for a little over four days a week instead of the five days for which we shall alone have been responsible for the 13 years up to 29th July, 1968.

You will have seen from the Directors’ Report that arrangements for the formation of a new company have been agreed between the Company and ABC Television and approved by the Authority. The establishment of a joint company in such circumstances is a very complex matter; when all the necessary matters of detail have been settled, you will be informed of the overall position.

We shall in future have a 50 per cent stake (but a minority of the voting shares) in an operation covering four days plus part of a day in place of our present exclusive five day operation. In effect, we shall have been reduced from five day operation to marginally more than two day operation. Nevertheless, we have always had the most friendly relations with ABC Television and we shall certainly do everything we can, as I am sure will ABC Television also, to make the new company an outstanding success.

Whatever reasons Lord Hill of Luton (whose appointment to the Chairmanship of our competitors, the B.B.C., had, according to press reports, been decided months earlier) and his part-time colleagues of the I.T.A. may have had for crossing our name off the list of effective contributors to independent television, I and my colleagues on the Board will remain forever grateful to the men and women who built up Rediffusion Television with so much devoted skill, energy and enthusiasm. We believe they have done a magnificent job of work. Although the Company is under sentence of death, every valiant effort is being made, in spite of the obvious difficulties, to keep our flag flying right up to the end.”

The post Sentenced to death appeared first on THIS IS REDIFFUSION from Transdiffusion.

THAT was a decade that was. That was a decade that was…

Oh, put the emphasis where you like. The fact remains that all of us who were there on the night when Rediffusion and ITV first flickered on to the screen are now 10 – no, 11 – years older.

I’ve changed. How about you?

Rediffusion has certainly altered. For a start it is no longer ‘Associated’.

Incidentally, dear editor, it would be interesting to find out just how many people at present on the pay-roll were with the company on Night One (still known to some as the night they invented champagne).

The answer is 252 – Editor.

From my own memory book I recall Sally Sutherland, Red Lyle, Dennis Atherton, Richard Hawkins, and the late Hugh Finlay – all part of the Press Office over the years.

Where the nostalgia really hit me was at the ITA’s white-tie Guildhall banquet when 10 glorious years and all that were celebrated.

It might have been the wine and brandy but sitting there under the stony stare of Gog and Magog I suddenly realised that 10 years (and part of a hair line) had vanished since I was in almost the same seat for ITV’s curtain-up.

The instant reaction was to check for ‘old familiar faces’ along the tables around me. Of 40 or so TV ‘professionals’ within range only four, perhaps five, had been there back in ’55.

Now I know how Greybeard felt. If my memory is right was Lord Hill, now ITA chairman, at that September 22, 1955, dinner as Postmaster-General?

And at that time didn’t ABC TV consist of just Howard Thomas and a secretary?

Before quitting that particular celebration I wonder if the champagne would have flowed so freely had it been known that within one year Rediffusion would be over £3 million down?

By the way, hasn’t that been perhaps the most important change of all – turning those colossal losses of the early years into a profit?

As a privileged spectator seeing much of the game from close quarters it seems to me that Rediffusion’s development has been in three stages.

The first, naturally, was that somewhat daffy unreal period when the newly recruited army worked excitedly to get the company on the air and keep it there.

Forgive me if there is an overlap for so many shows have been crammed into the decade, but those were the days of Gordon Harker and ‘Sixpenny Corner’. Of Ralph Reader’s ‘Chance Of A Lifetime’.

The weekly sports magazine. The Granville Melodramas. And of Sgt ‘I Only Want The Facts, Mam’ Webb and ‘Dragnet’.

Wasn’t there a freakish series called ‘You’ve Never Seen This’? Book reviews in the morning. Sheila Matthews as Friday’s Girl. Wasn’t this, too, the Jack Hylton variety era… the names which occur being Arthur Askey, Tony Hancock (he once did a one-man show in an emergency), Rosalina Neri, Bryan Michie, Ivor Emmanuel, the Crazy Gang and the Water Rats?

Roland Gillett was the programme controller, Lloyd Williams was on the production staff, and the whole period was like the froth on top of a pint.

The second stage was marked by the appointment of Paul Adorian as managing director and John McMillan as programme controller.

Now the workaday face and output of the company was being established. On went the old originals in ‘Take Your Pick’ and ‘Double Your Money’.

But morning TV disappeared. Much of the early pioneering excitement went with it. And the staff settled down to a more orderly existence.

Schools programmes started – remember Enid Love? Was it in this spell or even earlier that we had those Michael Ingrams’ series? How about those Goonish shows like ‘A Show Called Fred’, ‘Son of Fred’, and ‘Idiots’ Weekly’? Not only Sellers, but Milligan, too.

The work of putting in the foundations went on continuously.

‘Cool For Cats’ caught popular fancy and brought Joan Kemp-Welch’s name to the forefront. ‘This Week’ was going strong. Somewhere around this point Cyril Bennett and Elkan Allan began contributing to the company’s fortunes.

Peter Cotes is one more name I associate with this sector of Rediffusion’s fortune. And was I alone in liking America’s ‘Johnny Staccato’ jazz-thriller series?

I went down the Thames on one Rediffusion birthday party – and across to Paris for another. That was the day that George Sanders, then working on a special programme called ‘Women In Love’, helped to play host. Although only a voyage down the Seine, Captain Tom Brownrigg was also on hand.

So we had ‘No Hiding Place’ and ‘Intertel’, ‘Wagon Train’ and ‘Rawhide’. But where was Tig Roe? Whither Alan Morris? Goodbye Kingsway Corner.

Out went advertising magazines. Out went ‘Jim’s Inn’ – after setting the standard for all shows of this type. But in came the many successful Pinter plays.

The most successful, of course, being ‘The Lover’, with Alan Badel and Vivien Merchant. It must have won almost every award possible… actor, actress, author and director. Surely Rediffusion’s most successful production in all those 11 years?

Just as the TV scene was growing contentedly sedate on came ‘Ready, Steady, Go!’ to give half the nation convulsions and the other half blood pressure.

Visiting the ‘RSG’ studio at TV House brought back all the din of 1955 and that drilling year when Adastral House was being converted.

By now Rediffusion was part of life. Dan Farson, always prominent in company affairs on the screen (his ‘Time Gentlemen, Please’ show was not only entered at Montreux but must have been responsible for the introduction of ‘Stars and Garters’), was a notable departure.

But phase two was drawing to a close too. On went John McMillan to general manager and in came Cyril Bennett as the new programme controller.

This is now part of the latest story… come in David Frost, Stella Richman, Benny Green, ‘Three After Six’, ‘The Rat Catchers’, and David Jacobs.

Pausing only to nod a farewell to Buddy Bregman and a friendly greeting to Europe’s favourite TV ‘uncle’ Eric Maschwitz, it scarcely seems credible that Monica Rose was hardly walking when ‘Double Your Money’ was first televised.

Yes, you’ve changed all right. Some more memory jogs… Stuart Hood, that ‘Arabian Nights’ opening for Wembley Studios, ‘Hippodrome’ in colour, the American deal with David Susskind, ‘Dial M For Music’, ‘Alfred Marks Time’, Keith Fordyce, Groucho Marx, Dickie Henderson, and on, and on.

It’s been a long time. Perhaps after all it should be that was a decade that was? What’s more Gog and Magog are still waiting.

The post That was the decade that was appeared first on THIS IS REDIFFUSION from Transdiffusion.

No more will third-form schoolboys who have mastered the mysteries of nitro-glycerine and matches be able to chuckle at TV’s version of a safe-blowing job.

At least, as far as No Hiding Place is concerned. A new look is coming to TV’s top ‘get your man’ series.

It’s all due to criminal consultant Colin Holder. For £25 a week, 27-year-old Colin, an ex-criminal himself, will be combing the scripts to make sure the TV criminal sticks to the letter of criminal law.

Consultants aren’t new to No Hiding Place. George Kelly, an ex-Detective Inspector with the Flying Squad, has been advising on the police side of the picture for some time.

There’s definite art in the use of phrases like casing a joint, haggling with a fence, stashing the cash, and avoiding the fuzz (police).

Not, of course, that I would know. But being of sterling character. I appreciate how the No Hiding Place script writers can slip on the finer points.

Said script editor Louis Marks: “We are looking deeper into the criminal character of our plots. For example, the first of the new series deals with the problems of a released prisoner. Colin can give us invaluable help in analysing the other side of the law.”

He continued: “No Hiding Place has already achieved top popularity as it stands.

“But this realism business is a trend we intend to concentrate on. And that’s where our experts come in. We are under no pressure from the police about the programme’s contents.”

Louis is well aware that a lot of people like No Hiding Place exactly as it is now.

“People write in saying how much they like the programme. Then they add that something happened to a relation or friend the other week which might convert into a good story.

“But to be absolutely frank, they are mostly unsuitable. Often, they arrive more as fan mail than anything else.

“We genuinely appreciate this sort of interest. But believe it or not we don’t have any difficulty finding new story lines — even after seven years.”

Louis, who was previously in charge of scripts for the Deadline Midnight series, will bring a new aspect of realism to the programme.

But No Hiding Place fans needn’t worry. The old firm of Detective Sergeants Perryman and Russell (Michael McStay and Johnny Briggs) will still be there — still complaining about the “old man.” Nothing can stop Lockhart!

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